


Song of Light - Ep. 0 (Pilot): "Incursion"

by SpiritVDC



Series: Song of Light - A Warhammer 40,000 Saga [1]
Category: Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21702892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritVDC/pseuds/SpiritVDC
Summary: Set near the end of the 41st Millennium, the "Song of Light" series follows the story of an unorthodox Eldar Craftworld known as Ra'Shelwe, whose denizens are attempting to reverse fate by fighting for peace in a galaxy of war. By their side are various open-minded allies, including a diplomatic Sept of the Tau Empire and various renegade Imperial forces, all of whom were guided together by serendipitous destiny as they race to unravel a sinister web of conspiracy and contrivance that could bring the galaxy to its knees. In this short pilot episode, we catch a glimpse of but one cog in this dark skein.
Series: Song of Light - A Warhammer 40,000 Saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564312





	Song of Light - Ep. 0 (Pilot): "Incursion"

The sound of metallic footsteps could be heard crunching through the snow as a small squadron of ironstriders made their way through the frigid night. Kalik had his hood clipped in place to prevent it being whipped from his head by winds that would have felt insufferably cold, had his epidermal layers not been replaced with the implacable steel of Skitarii battle armor; indeed, the tumultuous blizzard around them was of such temperature that bare skin would be turned to ice in seconds. The ferocity of the storm had reduced visibility to almost zero, forcing the scouting party to navigate purely through the luminescent symbols and topographical maps projected within their ocular receptors. While most of these readouts were in some form of binharic that would be easily recognizable to any member of the Cult Mechanicus, several runic scripts within Kalik's display were in the tongues of long-dead xenos races, whose alien utensils were fused into the circuitry of his machinery steed. This was no secret heresy, but rather a gift of power from the technomancers who had taught him to reject the closed-minded dogmas of Imperial prejudice and embrace the power of any force that could be understood and harnessed. There was no red to be seen on Kalik's robes, his ironstrider or any of his equipment, all of which bore the stark white and ghostly blue of his renegade Forge World's heraldry.

Kalik hated the red of Mars and indeed its entire self-righteous priesthood, for when his sister's cybernetics were infected by an exotic datavirus that the magos of her shrine was unfamiliar with, he simply ordered that she be recycled instead of bothering to search for the proper cleansing rites from the wider sector's memory banks. It was by Kalik's hand that she was rescued from the servitors charged with carrying her off to the nearest waste plant, and it was by his hand that she had been placed within a stasis field until his search for a cure finally lead him to the frozen Forge World of Ardones; there, the technomancers simply accessed the virus' subroutines and commanded it not only to cease its assault upon her body, but also to act as a sentry against further infection. They had done this not by communing with some esoteric spirit or performing an exorcism with archaic rituals, but by their own hands, through the understanding of science and the knowledge of what actions were necessary to bring about the desired result. On that day, Kalik's loyalty was earned, and he devoted himself to the service of the Dark Forge.

The Skitarii alpha's musings were interrupted by an incoming voxcast from base. He accepted the signal with a twitched thought and the image of a foreboding figure was projected into his vision. The being wore robes of white that were decorated with scrawling patterns of blue and purple, while a pair of icy lights shone in place of eyes on his metallic face. This was the technomancer whom Kalik now served under, the very one who had saved his sister's life.

"Alpha K-6291, status report," The cybernetic priest asked. His robotic voice was transmitted directly into Kalik's mind.

"Status normal, nothing unusual to report," Kalik replied.

"Good. Your directive is being updated. A Webway breach was detected near your location. Take your squadron to these coordinates, observe the area and report back once you have identified the intruders," The technomancer said.

"By my hand, my lord," Kalik replied. The voxcast ended and Kalik relayed the new course information with his squad-mates over their encrypted data channel before accelerating his ironstrider engine.

The rune-marked location was not far away. Kalik surmised that the alert must have been sent to his unit simply because they were the closest to the disturbance. His topographical display illuminated the blackness with the ghostly silhouette a cliff face overlooking a vast plain of ice, in which the Webway breach was marked with an obscure Aeldari symbol. Kalik ordered his squadron to advance to the edge of the cliff and slow their ironstrider engines to almost nil, as close as they could get to stopping without risking permanent shutdown of the ancient devices. Kalik removed a pair of smooth, elegantly curved binoculars from his belt and held them to his mask, engaging his ocular receptors to full power, as his cybernetic systems could not fully interface with the alien device directly. The xenos rangefinder cut through the storm and displayed the valley below in clear detail, albeit in blue monochrome. He quickly zeroed in on a short column of Rhino-pattern transport tanks, eight in total, each covered in rows of spikes with skulls impaled upon them. Leading the column was a hulking figure in dark power armor who wielded a twisted mockery of a Cult Mechanicus power axe and had nests of mechanical tendrils writhing beneath his cloak; two squads of Chaos Space Marines stood behind him, each wearing jump packs embellished with blood-stained claws and carrying wargear suited to a follower of Khorne. Upon their shoulders they each wore an insignia resembling a skull with cogs for eyes and a gear-toothed mouth dripping with gore. Kalik flicked a dial on his rangefinder and the armor of the rhinos became transparent, revealing that each transport contained eight marines with numerous reaper autocannons, while the Warpsmith at the head of the column was identified as holding a Drukhari Webway key, likely the means by which they facilitated their arrival. With another flick of the dial, three alien symbols came up on Kalik's display, each representing the primary thought patterns emanating from the Astartes' minds; Kalik's personal memory banks translated these runes as 'kill', 'steal' and 'burn'. The Skitarii alpha lowered his rangefinder and flicked a switch on his wrist to initiate an encrypted voxcast back to base.

"This is Alpha K-6291 reporting back, I have identified a warband of Chaos Astartes that arrived via Drukhari Webway key, they are heavily armed and their thought patterns indicate that they intend to assault and loot the planet," Kalik said.

"Alpha K-6291, you are to enact Ghostreaper Protocol with all haste," The technomancer replied.

"Sir, with all due respect, the warband is easily within range of the nearest macro-cannon battery. Would it not be more efficient to simply erase them from existence with a long-range bombardment?" Kalik asked.

"Negative, 6291, We do not wish to damage the Webway key. You have your orders, enact Ghostreaper Protocol," The technomancer said.

"By my hand, my lord," Kalik replied.

In the wind-swept valley below, the growl of daemonic engines was matched in volume only by the vox-enhanced voices of the crimson-plated marines marching beside them. The Aeldari blood on their blades, still fresh from their slaughter of the Webway's guardians, had frozen into beads of scarlet crystal within moments of entering the icy world. The sensor systems of the marines' helmets were straining to pierce the veil of the thick snowstorm, but even they could not see beyond the reach of their tanks' fog lights.

"Damn, it's cold enough I can almost feel it through my suit, and I can't see a thing! How do these cog-heads live on worlds like this?" One jump marine exclaimed.

"Who cares as long as they still have fluids for my chainsword to spray. I love watching their bionics short out when drowned in their own blood," Another replied.

"Silence, marines," the Warpsmith boomed, "we must find an entrance to the forges below before they realize we've arrived. I don't plan on- " Before he could finish his words, the Warpsmith's head slumped to the side and ever muscle in his body went slack at once, his armored form crashing to the ground.

"Sir!" One of the jump marine yelled, running to his lord's corpse, the mechadendrites beneath his robes now squirming aimlessly. Before that marine could speak, he slumped over as well and collapsed beside the fallen Warpsmith. The remaining jump marines recoiled in shock, unable to recognize what was assailing them.

"Back up! Back up!" The jump marine sergeant yelled to the rhino drivers, assuming they may have walked into some kind of killing forcefield.

Much to the sergeant's surprise, soon after the rhinos reversed course, the jump marine furthest toward the rear of the unit slumped over and collapsed. Within moments of his demise, every piece of mechanized equipment in their column lost power simultaneously; auspex targeting went dark, the internal systems of their power armor began to shut down and the engines of their vehicles fell silent, the latches of their doors falling open simultaneously with an ominous thud.

"Face us, cowards!!" The sergeant yelled as he leveled his boltgun at the dark horizon and opened fire.

The rest of the warband followed the sergeant's lead, piling out of their transports and unleashing hails of bolter and autocannon fire in every direction. Shadows shifted in the dark, wicked laughter resonating through their minds as the gunners bellowed war cries in concert with the roar of their heavy guns. The half-glimpsed specters dancing around them seemed to avoid every shot fired, even as more marines kept slumping over and falling one by one. Terror began to grip the sowers of terror as clip upon clip was emptied into the darkness, each volley being answered only by ghostly snickers and the unnerving thud of another battle-brother dropping dead. The bodies of the fallen were without mark, betraying no outward indication of what dark force had robbed them of their lives. For all their rage and fury, the Chaos Astartes were unable to perceive what threat they were truly facing, and unable to even guess at what kind of enemy would perform this style of attack.

Eventually the warband's numbers began to dwindle as the invisible, methodical force of death took its toll upon them. Bolters fell silent and battle cries faded as more and more marines were struck down. The Chaos Astartes soon found that they numbered only eight, then five, then two, and finally the last marine felt his body go slack as he succumbed to unstoppable oblivion. The battlefield was at last silent, the only sound being the sizzle of cooling gun barrels and the howl of the icy wind.

Several moments after the battle had ended, the lights of the warbands' vehicles ignited and their engines began revving up by themselves. The power armor of the fallen marines came back online and the electrically-motivated fibre bundles within each one activated, slowly standing up around their dead occupants and walking toward their rhinos like mechanical zombies. Each suit picked up the weapons and equipment its wearer had been using in life and entered one of the rhinos, then flopped down into one of the seats and deactivated once again. The fallen Warpsmith rose with them, the servos of his armor forcing his cold hand to grip the Webway key tightly as it carried his corpse aboard the nearest rhino as well. Once all of the dead Astartes had been loaded into their rhinos by their reanimated power armor, the doors of each rhino closed by themselves and the tanks began quietly rolling forward into the darkness.

On the glacial cliff above the silent battlefield, Kalik sat shouldering an alien long rifle whose burnished black shell was illuminated by a sickly green glow, revealing dynastic hieroglyphics that chronicled kills from millennia before mankind ever dreamed of walking the stars. His second-in-command behind him retracted the antenna of the complex electro-domination device on his back and the third Skitarii ironstrider was reciting her mantra to calm her mind of the minor trauma caused by drawing on the power of the Warp.

"Status?" Kalik asked over his unit's encrypted channel.

"Direct control assumed, they'll park in the nearest exo-dock and shut down," The Skitarii beta replied.

"Good, relay our status back to base... Ferra?" Kalik asked.

"I'm okay, inducing fear is an easy skill to manifest so I wouldn't be too worried," Ferra replied.

"Take care with your skills, sister," Kalik said.

"Always," Ferra replied.

Kalik returned his alien rifle to his back and accelerated his ironstrider engine, bidding his squadron mates to do the same; he readjusted his senses to accommodate for the intense fury of the Ardonian blizzard as they continued their routine security sweep of the sector. Kalik had wished to avoid risking the danger of his sister's budding psychic powers as much as possible, but he reasoned that she would need to learn control over her abilities eventually. After all, they had pledged themselves to see humanity enlightened, and by their hand, they would see it done.

_Author's Notes: All episodes are also posted on Fanfiction.net under "SpiritVDC" and on DeviantArt under "WH-Song-Of-Light". Follow me on DeviantArt for additional worldbuilding lore and art pieces related to this story._


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